


five times kissed

by grandstander



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: M/M, like full fledged smut but its more meant to be intimate / heartfelt than like hot or w/e, this is my first like ... full smut piece?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:18:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4100692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grandstander/pseuds/grandstander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh, you ripped the words right out of my mouth and took them into your own.</p><p>How long can you just call it fun? How long can Gaius skid by saying it’s happenstance? That it’s just entertaining a notion and appeasing simple carnal interests when such desires had carved its’ way from his blood into the organ beating in his chest?</p><p>Not very long, is the answer he’s learned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	five times kissed

**Author's Note:**

> this is um... my first full smut thing. its not the entire fic, so yeah  
> this was taken from my rp blog, where i rp gaius and my friend is lon'qu so theres a lot of headcanons in this   
> this is also my longest fic and im super proud of it so ye
> 
> enjoy

_Oh, you ripped the words right out of my mouth and took them into your own._

How long can you just call it fun? How long can Gaius skid by saying it’s happenstance? That it’s just entertaining a notion and appeasing simple carnal interests when such desires had carved its’ way from his blood into the organ beating in his chest?

 _Not very long_ , is the answer he’s learned.

**one.**

An exchange, an exchange that perhaps isn’t entirely one that would be disliked– no, rather, it peaks interest. Though, that is all it is meant to be, because nothing is free in this world, a lesson that was learned long ago and with such a self-enforced law Gaius would keep himself bound to. He repays what is given to him, and with a shaky voice the myrmidon says he may repay him for the lunch with a kiss. There’s a warm splay of color blooming on the dark skin of the other man, and Gaius finds himself stunned. 

An unfitting request for him, really; if anyone were to not be bothered by these sorts of things, it would be Gaius. Though, he hadn’t expected such a request, especially from Lon’qu– though, the thief hadn’t exactly expected to be asked if he’d like to train with the old Khan’s Champion either. 

How amusing that Lon’qu would have so many little surprises tucked within him. 

He’s almost a bit hesitant to accept, it seems a bit unorthodox, really, but it wasn’t as if the thief did not find the other man attractive, or find that being close to his body had made him feel more content than he had been in a while. A word of agreement, _“Alright,”_ passes from the ginger’s lips as his heart drums a bit and a deep exhale leaves him. Lon’qu seems more than nervous, and what light hint of a blush he could see before, it could be seen decently now– it’s cute, ridiculously cute. Lon’qu could probably cut him in half, and yet he seems so… so new to all this. 

He probably is, Gaius thinks, and the myrmidon moves towards him and deep cloudy pools of brown fall and glance at the thief’s lips, and he seems to have another small wave of anxiety, so Gaius rests his palm on the swordsman’s arm, and it sort of melts together. Or rather, **they** melt together. 

They lean into each other, chests pressing together while Lon’qu’s arms settle (albeit somewhat hesitantly) on the thief’s hips, and Gaius’ hands rest on the other’s upper arms. Lon’qu is hesitant, soft touches and warm lips and his skin burning with hues of pink while he moves ever so slightly against the smaller man’s mouth. It’s not an exceptionally long kiss, over very deep, but it’s enough to entertain the ginger and make his head feel a bit light (perhaps dizzy with the same butterflies that had begun fluttering in his stomach). 

“Was– was that alright?” 

There’s doubt in Lon’qu’s voice when he asks, and his eyes had darted away from the dark green gaze of the thief while the same blush paints his face. _Cute– so terribly cute._ Gaius wants to kiss him again, and again and again, because there’s these little piece of Lon’qu he’s getting to see and feel and he wants to ravish it. Gaius quells himself, chuckling slightly and pressing a brief peck to Lon’qu’s lips as a grin spreads across his own face. “It was fine, bed bug.”

**two.**

Perhaps the first could have skated by with just a pass as being “fun,” and maybe even the second– but when it’s such a small moment, a quick exchange and meant to be some kind of secret, it’s hard to say it’s just play. It’s morning– or rather, it’s afternoon but morning for the myrmidon who has a regular habit of sleeping until noon, and the last of breakfast is being consumed when it happens, and the thief has little time to react to it. 

The swordsman’s gaze flickers around the room consciously, and when his nerves begin to bundle and shake and there is no eyes upon him, his shoulders lean forward and twist slightly, a soft kiss pressed to the lips of the man next to him. It was a fleeting exchange, warmth washing over Gaius’ body in a single spring wave, but it remains as a singular wave and nothing more. A single pulse falls over him, too, breath catching in his throat in surprise, and the act is finished before his body has time to properly react to it. Lon’qu rises from his seat slowly and casually, his demeanor still groggy and cold, tho there is a slight burn of red against the shell of his ears as he leaves. 

Gaius still isn’t entirely sure what to make of it, so he decides to not make anything of it at all. He continues his breakfast, and when he’s done he leaves with the same calm demeanor as always, and his day continues even though the cogs in his head have gotten stuck. The thief’s thoughts keep returning to it, his chest swells with something he doesn’t want to even ponder, and late at night when his nerves twitch to roam, he finds his body still and his fingers brushing the dry skin of his lips.

**three.**

It seems that maybe, maybe things have settled but fleeting glances and silent observing becomes more of a build up of tension rather than any sort of settling. Both of them have a habit of observing those they are around on a regular basis, so it’s only natural they shift to watching the other, and it becomes fleeting glances and eyes locking for mere seconds, and a thundering sound in Lon’qu’s chest that beats in his own ear drums. 

Gaius spends so much time alert and awake, as well as time battling boredom, there are hours in the day where he settles into a tree with a chunk of unrefined wood in hand and a knife, and works on it aimlessly while watching the camp. It’s calming in a way, watching the clouds shift behind the tents and some of the Shepherds talking, others laughing. It makes him smile a little, wondering and thinking. He wonders if he’s anchored to this, part of him says no– and the other wishes he was. They matter to him, as much as anyone can matter to a lowly thief. 

The ritual passes, and somewhere along the way Lon’qu joined him. They sit in a comfortable silence, the swordsman at the base of the tree and Gaius perched within the branches with a leg dangling down. Days pass and the piece of wood in his hands changes a little more, whittled down into an imagine akin to a hawk. The thief peers down at the figre, turning it over in his hands, before dropping it so that it lands on the myrmidon’s lap, a smile on his face as he tells Lon’qu _“It reminds me of you.”_

The days following, Gaius waits at the base of the tree, his back resting against the trunk, and he extends a greeting and prolonged glance at the myrmidon ( and there is a new piece of wood tumbling between his knife and fingers ). The comfortable silence becomes comfortable small talk, and their distance seems to wither away with the sun as well, their shoulders pressing together and Gaius’ hands moving elaborately as he talks, with great grandeur, stories of his many travels and misadventures. 

It seems there’s still more to fall between them, and Lon’qu presses a quick kiss to his cheek an evening when they depart. It makes the thief’s heart drum in his chest, and he’s not entirely sure what to do about it; so again, he does nothing and let’s it be whatever it is. The soft kiss, too, becomes part of the routine; and Gaius comes to expect them and his heart flutters high up against the very top of his chest when they’re exchanged with soft laughs, smiles, and quiet good nights. It feels as if for once, the barren land of scars and marred desert that makes up the man that he is becomes a garden; an oasis. Peonies and lilies blossom in the cracks of his ribs and the sun nestles itself in his collarbone, heart blooming with them. _Happy–_ he’s happy. Happy and content, his fingers itch to brush against the other man’s skin, to learn the small waves and lines that make up the imprints of Lon’qu’s skin. 

Gaius has fallen in love, a thing he never quite had much interest in, but oh does he love and does it sink into him so deeply. The soft exchange becomes many, Gaius pressing a series of kisses against the other soldier’s lips when they exchange their farewells, and the smile on his face grows warm and soft. With each kiss Gaius places another small piece of his soul in Lon’qus mouth, and their kisses grow and grow– what was broken down and pushed apart to come together now grows into one, and they disappear behind trees from time to time, hands pressing against bodies and lips meeting almost desperately. They barely break apart, Gaius’ back pressed against the rough bark of a tree and his hands curled tightly into the edges of the swordsman’s coat, pulling him as close as their bodies can be. Their breathing ragged, muffled noises mixing with them, and Gaius feels like he might burst. 

There’s a sea pressing against the inside of his skin, threatening to pour out, threatening to pour out every ache and secret into Lon’qu’s mouth and oh how he wants to, wants to pour his entire being into this. It aches, it feels like his body aches with heat, he can smell the soap Lon’qu uses and his fingers rush against the skin of the other man’s neck, his arms curling around him. It’s wet and a bit of a mess, a mess of want and aches– a mess of tongues and open mouths and rugged breathing. He adores the way Lon’qu tastes, loves how this feels, their tongues together and mouths opened while their torsos are pressed as close as they can be.

Gaius feels like he’s being drug under. 

He wishes he could drown like this, this would be perfect.

**four.**

Gaius really can’t avoid saying it by now, he can’t, it’s not a game anymore. He can’t say this was a game from the start, not when Lon’qu was so tender, so sweet and hesitant; no one had touched him like that, treated him like that. Gaius was damaged goods, damaged goods from the start. He drug himself through his life and fought tooth and nail and learned how to pick master locks by age ten, he was not something sweet and pure, he was not made of love. Gaius was harsh reality, he was rough kisses and rough sex with bruises and nails breaking skin– he wasn’t this. He wasn’t Lon’qu’s hands gently brushing against his hips, kissing him as if he were new to this, all soft and hesitant and with sweet sighs and fingers dipping into the small of his back. 

He wasn’t this– it almost makes him hurt, it almost makes his heart break with how gentle Lon’qu was with him.

His breathing is a shaky exhale, and he should be the one gently touching the other since it was _his_ first, not Gaius’. Gaius had done this many times, with many people, but Lon’qu had slowly opened himself up to him and here they were, naked as their feelings and bodies pressed together. The thief’s hands travel down his arms, fingers trailing along the outline of muscles and gently pulling the other’s hands from his slim hips. 

“Here, lay down.” Gaius says to him, voice soft and as quiet as a whisper as he presses several kisses to the curve of Lon’qu’s jaw. The taller does as he’s told, his steps back up until he can feel the bed against the back of his knees, and he settles onto it, Gaius following him closely. Their hands lace together as they kiss briefly, and Lon’qu lays back against the bed, watching Gaius as he settled between his legs and his hands ran upwards along his thighs. The same fingers move upward, making red colors bloom against Lon’qu’s tan skin, and he feels butterflies in his stomach as the other man wraps his palm around his dick, and as much as he wants to look away, he can’t. 

Sharply inhaling, Lon’qu continues to watch as the smaller man strokes him and presses soft kisses against his inner thigh, fingers moving against the sheets below him and lightly grabbing them as warmth pools in his gut. Gaius glances at the other’s face from time to time, noticing how awestruck he seems to be by just being touched– it’s cute, and he grins before he shifts his knees down on the bed and lowers his body, taking Lon’qu’s half hard member into his mouth. 

Lon’qu slowly unravels for him as Gaius pleasures him with his mouth, his head craning back and while his fingers curl into the smooth strands of the thief’s hair. Gaius enjoys himself, admittedly– he’s not one to disapprove of his mouth being full, so he makes sure to do his best, small grunts turning into deep moans from the man above. He almost finds it equally cute how quickly Lon’qu begins to react, but he’s new to this, so it’s understandable, but Gaius intends to give him his best and please him nonetheless. The hands that had wound themselves into orange hair tugged from time to time, and Lon’qu was trying to avoid that, still treating the smaller man with care, but each time he did there was a soft groan in Gaius’ throat and his hips would roll. 

The sight always made Lon’qu’s heart drum and the color that had come to his skin grow a little darker, and he twitches within Gaius’ mouth. It excited Gaius each time he felt Lon’qu’s dick move within his mouth, ego and pride swelling as they always did while he moved, lavishing the head with attention, tongue swirling around it and quick sucks following from time to time when the entirety of the myrmidon was not in his mouth. Lon’qu felt hot all over, and his pupils had grown wide as he’d watch without so much as a flicker of his attention swaying when Gaius’ lips stretched to take him in, until they were almost flush against his pelvis. He could feel how deep he was, could feel himself move over the tongue that pushed against the his dick; admittedly, Lon’qu wondered if the other man had a gag reflex or not, but the thought was shot when he felt Gaius swallow, throat and mouth constricting around him and a loud groan leaving him as a wave of pleasure rolled down his body.

He groaned when he watched Gaius take him like that again, one of the hands that had been resting on top of the thief’s head sliding down and brushing hair behind his ear to see him better. Deep hazel eyes flickered from their focus, meeting Lon’qu’s and they stayed like that for a heartbeat, before Gaius went back to his motions. His tongue seemed to work some kind of wonder, each time he moved in and out of the wet heat of Gaius’ mouth, and he felt his breathing going harsh and his knees jerked as the warmth that had started to cling to the air seemed to settle in his body. It felt as if his body pulsed with it, rolling over him and smothering him and he groaned more and more– until finally his palm pressed against Gaius’ head, and he came with a loud cry. 

His hips bucked several times, knees shaking and Gaius allowed himself to be moved however the swordsman saw fit. The waves that had overcome him slowed, until he felt like a bright yellow glow had settled into his blood and he felt himself tire already. He rose his head to apologize to the other man for having come so suddenly, and in his mouth as well, but the words in his throat were caught in the moment as he saw Gaius sitting up and wiping the corners of his mouth with his thumb. _He swallowed._

Another soft groan left Lon’qu in place of the words he wanted to say, to which Gaius just chuckled. When he crawls upwards, Lon’qu notices he’s still hard, precum leaking onto his stomach as Gaius’ knees rest on either side of his hips. “Do you mind if I keep going?” he asks, and that gentleness from before returns to his voice. Lon’qu’s heart thumps a little harder, and he nods his head, Gaius smiling to him in response as his body relaxes above him. A hand comes to rest upon Lon’qu’s stomach, and he watches in silence as the other moves behind him. 

Curiosity is answered when his gaze can see how taught Gaius’ arm goes, and he looks down to see him inserting a finger into himself. Lon’qu watches his hand move with interest, his mouth falling open slightly as he lays his hands on the thief’s thighs, while Gaius works himself. He gets hard again just watching, the way his hips jerking a bit from time to time and the quiet moans that leave him. He’s got two fingers stretching himself, and when he speaks his breathing’s heavy and his voice is more rugged than usual. “At– at the end of the bed, there’s somethin’ in my pants’ pocket. Get it for me… won’t you?” 

Lon’qu nods obediently, sitting up while Gaius stills himself and the swordsman leans forward as his fingers grope in the thin cloth of his pants until they grasp a tube. He pushes himself further back up on the bed, and he gently slides back between Gaius’ spread legs. The tube is laid on his stomach, while his hands go back to resting on the smaller man’s thighs, this time his thumbs rubbing small circles into the soft skin. Gaius returns to preparing himself, and Lon’qu finds himself a mix of excited and enthralled– he wants to kiss Gaius, but he also wants to keep hearing those soft sighs. 

A groan leaves him with the third finger, and he’s panting now too, and Gaius rock the slightest bit for a few moments until he draws his fingers out. Lon’qu is more than erect having watched the small display, Gaius feeling it press against one of his thighs and he chuckles in response, hips shift again to feel it against his skin before continuing. His eyes rise to look at Lon’qu again, grin cracking over his features as he speaks, “Just lean back and relax, alright? I’ll do all the work.” His hand wraps around Lon’qu’s thick shaft again, this time holding it steady as his other hand grabs the bottle that rests above Lon’qu’s navel. His fingers unscrew the container with ease, and he turns his hand upside-down so it pours over his fingers. His hand moves down, rubbing it against Lon’qu’s member and coating it from the tip to the base. A hiss leaving the myrmidon when he felt the cold substance against such sensitive warm skin, but the sensation of Gaius’ hand against him again wasn’t an all too displeasing one.

Gaius slowly lowers himself onto the other man, Lon’qu still watching with unwavering eyes, groaning as he feels himself enter the other’s heat. It’s slow, both of the thief’s hands on his stomach now as he he slides down. He’s breathing heavy by the time he’s settled down on his lap, a dusting of red against the peaks of his body while he sits, occasionally shifting from side to side as he tries to adjust to the thick girth. 

It’s not long before Gaius has adjusted, and he begins moving on top of the other man. Lon’qu continues to watch him, his hands raising and settling on the other’s hips as he continues to move. His cheeks have gone red, and he looks so lovely– pale skin with rising crescendos of pink on his cheeks, ears, and shoulders, and freckles spread over the expanse of his body. Moans leave him as he works himself on Lon’qu’s shaft, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead and on other regions of his body; it’s strange to think but he looks beautiful then, genuinely beautiful. He looks more lovely than anything Lon’qu’s ever seen, and he’s being drug under those waves of heat again, waves of Gaius and his hips begin to buck upwards just slightly into him, small whines leaving the man above him. 

Lon’qu aches and he feels tired, but he’s come once already– the least he could do is return the favor to Gaius. He tries, little groans leaving him as heat envelopes him and he feels like he’s lucid all over with all this moving. It’s genuinely amazing– Gaius amazes him. Lon’qu just keeps thinking about how beautiful he looks, even when doing such lewd things. He’s probably done this before, he obviously has, and he wonders how others haven’t fallen in love with Gaius when they’ve seen him like this; so open, body warm and slender and lovely, freckles doting his skin like a million stars and the lovely contrast of red and light peach of his skin. His chest swells and it feels like he’s going to burst, he groans, mumbling Gaius’ name as he leans forward and buries his head against the crook of the smaller man’s neck, biting down on it while his hips try to move against him. 

Gaius whimpers– he whimpers and sighs, Lon’qu’s name leaving him as a response to hearing his own called out, and a shiver wracks up his spine when the swordsman bites down hard against his neck. He groans again, and Lon’qu leans back once more to watch his face, watch him as pleasure washes over him and he just moves himself rougher above Lon’qu, hips slamming down hard and fast by now. Their eyes meet, and Gaius can’t help but want to kiss him, his mouth hanging open as noises spill from him without any will to stifle them, and his heart thumps so loudly he can hear it. Or is that Lon’qu’s heartbeat? He’s not sure, he’s not– all he knows is he feels warm and full, full of so much, so much that his lungs ache even though he’s breathing fine. 

The way Lon’qu looks at him makes him feel like he’s being exposed even more, like he can see into every crevice of his being and he feels like he hurts, he feels a little afraid. Lon’qu keeps looking at him as if he’s all that he wants to look at it, and it’s nice to a degree but it frightens him– it frightens him because he loves Lon’qu, because he hasn’t loved like this before. The rough hands on his hips make him feel safe, adored, make him feel like he’s something precious when he’s not; he’s not, he’s not, he’s not. It hurts because he can see it in Lon’qu’s eyes, can see that he loves him, too. He wish he didn’t, he wish this was just pleasure to Lon’qu and that was that; that’s easier to deal with, that’s easier for Gaius to do. He’s done that before, done it many times, he doesn’t know what to do when his heart feels like and his body just feels as if it might burn away and expose the skeleton of his sins. He’s afraid, he’s oh so afraid– he’s not what Lon’qu needs, he’s not for him. Gaius is full of underhanded victories, of undeserved triumphs and lies and games. 

Lon’qu’s managed to make himself a champion, and what is he? A thief, a dirty thief that doesn’t care about the grit underneath his nails. All this agony churning in him like some sort of hurricane in his gut makes his body move harder, slamming his hips down and ripping a cry from his own throat ( he wants to force this all out, make it stop, to feel anything other than this overwhelming organ in his chest and to fuck himself empty ). Gaius wished this hurt, but it doesn’t. It feels wonderful, he feels so wonderful, he’s not sure what to do with those feelings; it’s more than just a high, more than just Lon’qu hitting him against is prostate so there’s stars behind his eyes, it feels like it’s higher than that, too. They’re strange and they frighten him, so he takes the storm in his heart and he presses forward, their mouths slamming together roughly and Gaius trying to kiss his own mind numb. 

“I love you.” the words tumble out of his mouth without his notice, voice hoarse from the noises that have left him, and Lon’qu’s entire body slams to a halt. The light color on his skin suddenly grows five shades darker, and Gaius doesn’t realized until he’s stopped moving that he said it. Strangely, he’s embarrassed, and he wished he could grab the words out of the air and stuff them back down his throat. “… Say it again.” 

A new wave of embarrassment settles, this time over Gaius, the pink on his skin burning brighter and his eyes finally move away from Lon’qu’s. “Please” the other man emphasizes, he sounds like he’s begging from something that he needs as desperately as air or water, and Gaius’ heart squeezes in his chest because he can tell, he can tell how much it means to him to hear it. His head bows forward, forehead resting against the other’s shoulder and he says it again, his heart shaking as much as his voice. “I love you.” 

Almost immediately, Lon’qu’s rough hands squeeze his hips and he lifts Gaius up, and slams his body down again. A loud moan, half out of surprise and half from the sudden feeling and movement, is pulled from him, his head falling back and nails digging into the skin of Lon’qu’s back. The hands resting on his hips move around him holding him firmly against Lon’qu as he gently turns and lays Gaius down on the bed. Gaius’ legs wrap around his hips, pulling him down into another kiss, and Lon’qu slam against the other as hard and as quick as he can. 

Gaius unravels beneath him this time, a mess of noises leaving him and fluids on his stomach. He almost says Lon’qu’s name like it’s some kind of prayer, like he’s pleading him– though neither could say what for. Lon’qu just presses himself further against him, until Gaius’ back starts to arch and his nails rake against his back, loud cries leaving him, a series of begging words and shouts as his stomach coils with heat and his hips snap forward. Lon’qu groans when he feels the other clench around him, a second high starts to rise in his gut and Gaius hips are bucking and he comes, Lon’qu watching in awe because even like this he looks lovey, too. How lovesick could he be?

A weak, broken groan leaves him as he comes, too, Gaius spent beneath him as he lets the last of the waves ebb over him, settling back into the warm yellow glow from before. His shoulders slump foreword, pressing a weak kiss to the thief’s mouth, and his voice comes out weak and rough from sex when Lon’qu says “I love you, too.” quietly in a whisper, as if it’s a secret meant for this night only.

**five.**

A year now, and Gaius’ bones ache and his blood pounds with some kind of deep hunger for something, anything new. His nerves burn and his thoughts run at a thousand miles an hour, fingers itching as they run over anything they can grab. It’s been a year since the war, a year since he’d come back to Lon’qu’s cold home, with a hundred apologies in his kisses he finds himself leaving with the sun more often than staying. Two years past that awful war now, and Gaius can stand to be in that painfully large home for more than a week at least. He still feels his heart ache with sorrow every time the fire in his belly consumes him– he aches, and he says sorry, says sorry in the way he touches Lon’qu and in the way he kisses him. He places his heart here, home is where the heart is– home is where Lon’qu is. 

He has a home. 

It’s such a terrible thought, isn’t it? Gaius can feel his throat constrict when he realizes, he realizes he has a place to belong. He belongs, and it pains him, he’s afraid. He’s afraid just like the first time they felt each other, the first time they kissed, he wants to cry. He feels like he’s suffocating, drowning, and on fire all at once. Home can be so terrifying to someone who’s never belonged; how do you get used to it? Gaius doesn’t know, he’s still doesn’t after so long. He’s getting used to it, slowly, the open wounds that have made him up for all his life are finally healing.

Three years now, Gaius’ face is a bit marred, a scar running over his left eye reaching from his brow to his cheek. His hands are rougher, there’s more scars on his stomach and he wrings his wrists a lot more; sometimes he can’t sleep, can’t eat, and he dreams of a tied rope hanging above his head and the calls of crows. Finally, home is home, and he embraces Lon’qu as if he is the sun. 

He fell and drowned, and now he wishes to burn himself in the expanse of his own love.

Lon’qu’s aged, too, fainter scars now decorating his aged face, the title of Champion is still his and he is a force to be reckoned with. He still looks like a soldier, body tall and fight, and those blue-brown eyes still look as if they could make hell freeze over, but when Gaius looks at him he still feels as young as a teenager again. He still feels mischievous and like his bones haven’t started to get sore with age and the stress he’s put it through. 

Four years pass, and Gaius maybe goes on small trips every few months; he’s comfortable lounging at home, and at times he’s able to flex his expertise of not-so-morally-correct skills for Basilio. They spend their days together, comfortable now; Gaius’ restless soul has come to find its’ peace, a peace he’s found in the arms of a swordsman from Chon’sin. With his heart beating warm and happy, his fingers laced with Lon’qu’s, he thinks they would feel better with a ring on them. 

And so, five years has passed since the war was fought, and Gaius has spent many days with his fingers drying and cracking while working with a thick band of metal. He’s made it silver, smoothed it out and worked small details and patterns into the ring, and he’s poured so much time into making it as precious and beautiful as Lon’qu is to him. It still doesn’t seem to really fit, no matter how much he tries, but this will have to do.

The small piece of metal stays in his pocket for several weeks following, wonder when to ask, what to say exactly, how to ask as well. It’s a thought that stays with him most of the time, and it seems that the silence between the two is growing when they’re together. It worries Gaius at times, until he notices Lon’qu’s hands rubbing at the back of his neck and his eyes staring aimlessly at the ground, fingers sometimes tugging at short tufts of hair. It’s a bit hard to make out, but there’s a light color of pink on the rise of his cheek bones, and Gaius feels a soft smile on his face. 

“What’s got ya’ so riled up, huh?” Gaius asks, a quiet laugh following his words as his hands glide softly over his wrist until he presses his fingers in between Lon’qu’s own. The older grunts, or makes some kind of Lon’qu-esque noise, and Gaius chuckles again, leaning against him so that his head rests on his broad shoulder. He seems so nervous, Gaius isn’t really sure what’s gotten into him; his thumb begins to rub small circling against the rough skin of his hand, and he moves to kiss him but the swordsman speaking makes him pause. 

“G-Gaius–” he starts, cloudy eyes darting to the side as his fingers squeeze the hand that had been placed in his own. “I… It’s been a long time, now… since– since we got together, and all, a-and the war is now fought and gone, too.” He gulps, trying to find words, and Gaius simply waits and listens while the Lon’qu’s other hand comes to rest above his, holding it tightly and letting his fingers stroke them aimlessly. “We… I… You know how I love you– I really do. You are… You amaze me, and you’re oh so beautiful. I find you as wonderful as when we were first together, I never tire of you,” 

It seems that Lon’qu has found his words, and now that he has found them, they continue to come to him; he speaks with love as if he were some kind of poet, and each time Gaius can’t help but get flustered. His heart flutters in his chest like a bird in a cage, beating quickly and his cheeks going red as the elder man continues. “You’re like spring, and even now as we grow, you’re still so full of life– I… I… I love you. I love you so much, you mean the world to me, I adore you. The way you work with jewelry and with wood, everything that comes from your hands is almost as beautiful as you.” Gaius heart nearly leaps out of his throat, and he almost lets out a little cry, his jaw tightening as he squeezing Lon’qu’s hand again. 

“What’s with you, bed bug? Somethin’ wrong?” surely Lon’qu wouldn’t spoil him with such words if he did not have some end goal ( even if Lon’qu speaks to him with love like this all the time ). He looks concerned, and he’s a touch emotional from being buried under such sweet things. “No– oh, Gods no, what could be wrong? I love you, nothing is wrong, I– I’m trying to ask…” and finally, Lon’qu moves from his seat against the plush coach in his ever so beautiful home, and the hands that are clasped around Gaius’ squeeze once again as he shifts onto one knee. 

“I’m asking you to marry me, to be with me for the rest of our lives– please, Gaius.”

Gaius feels like the colors red and pink; he feels like a sunset of love. He feels like he’s overflowing, overflowing with so much that his lips crack into a wide grin and small tears grow at the corners of his eyes. Who knew, huh? Who knew that some kind of beautiful blessing of a man, a man worth a million diamonds would want him. It feels like his heart had burst in his chest and he’s been painted pink from the inside out with some kind of blind, youthful love even though he’s an old fool. He laughs, a bright merry sound with happiness glowing in his body when his hands grab both of Lon’qu’s, sliding off the couch and onto his knees as well. 

He kisses him, still smiling and murmuring sweet nothings against his mouth. The kiss is long, or should it be called short? It’s a long kiss that’s made of many small ones of the two lovers speaking to each other as if they are made of gold and stars. “You know,” Gaius finally breaks from him, his forehead coming to rest against Lon’qu’s, and he laughs quietly again. “’ve been thinkin’ about askin’ you the same thing.” One of his hands slowly slides from his beloved’s, slipping into the pocket and pulling out the band that had been made by hand with love and care. 

“I made it a while back, but I just didn’t know when t’ ask ya’.” Lon’qu stares at the piece of metal, his heart thumping loudly and a shy smile creeps onto his face. “It’s lovely.” he tells Gaius, same soft smile that’s full of love still on his face. Gaius laughs weakly again, pressing another warm kiss to Lon’qu’s lips. 

“I love you, bed bug.”


End file.
